Bipolar WINTER. Samuel David Steiner

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СКАЧАТЬ mind spun. “Who then?”

      “One man championed you,” the pope said solemnly, his gaze piercing through Aldo.

      Stunned, Aldo responded, “You, Your Holiness?”

      “Yes.”

      So, I really did graduate by the Grace of God. But it didn’t make sense. “Why?” he asked. “Uh, I mean, I’m grateful, but…”

      “I didn’t want to penalize you for getting too close to the truth,” the pope said, shifting in his chair. “You single-handedly uncovered one of the deepest secrets kept by the Church for centuries.” The pope frowned. “As such, your paper will never be published. Your research must never be made known to the public.”

      Aldo knew from the moment the graduation board first rejected his thesis that it would never be published. But hearing it confirmed by the pope himself still discouraged him. Not having one’s research published was a virtual death sentence in his line of work. Not to mention all those years of legwork, reading, writing and revising—all for naught.

       What am I supposed to do now?

      “Not to fear. All is not lost,” the pope said with a small grin.

      How? If his research couldn’t be acknowledged, it was as if he made it all up. He would be labeled a fraud, perhaps the biggest fraud since Charles Ponzi. Aldo stiffened in his chair. Wait. Didn’t he just say I’d uncovered a secret?

      “So, it’s all true then?” he asked tentatively.

      “Yes, Septem Montes is in full swing.”

      “Septem Montes?”

      The pope nodded. “The Seven Hills. The true name for the connection you hinted at in your thesis. The seven distinct sects of Christianity were created intentionally, beginning with Martin Luther, just as you surmised.”

      Aldo slumped in his chair. No way. “I-I had pieces, but… There’s more, isn’t there?”

      “Yes.” The pope’s expression turned thoughtful. “I’m curious. You never mentioned who created the concept of the seven sects.”

      “No. I wasn’t sure who instigated it.”

      “But you must have had an inkling.”

      Aldo hesitated. “Yes.”

      “And?” the pope prodded. “What is your hypothesis?”

      Aldo studied the intricate pattern of the rug beneath his feet. “I don’t have enough facts to give an accurate conclusion.” He could feel the pope’s intense gaze, and beads of sweat formed on his brow. He knew without being told that he was quickly reaching the point of knowing too much. And not knowing what came after crossing that line truly terrified him.

      “I didn’t ask for facts. I’m curious about your theory,” the pope said, leaning toward him.

      Aldo tried to clear his throat, but the lump only grew bigger. “Well, um, Luther was obviously not the originator of the initial separation,” Aldo said carefully. “It-it just never made sense, I mean, considering his background and his complete faith in the Catholic Church, even during the Reformation. It seemed like, from Luther’s time ‘til now, the course of Christianity was directed through the careful guidance of someone in power.”

      One of Benedict’s eyebrows arched. Aldo couldn’t blame him for being shocked. Even to his own ears it sounded like complete lunacy, not to mention treacherous.

      “And who would that be?” the pope pressed.

      Aldo looked up. The pope not only deserved his complete honesty, but also wouldn’t accept anything less. And beating around the bush would only make matters worse. “It, uh…” Aldo coughed then tried again. “It seems to me that the originator would’ve been someone quite elevated in the Church, someone who had the will and desire to create offshoots of the Church.” Though, to what aim, he still wasn’t sure.

      The pope nodded. “And? Who?”

      Aldo took a deep breath. He’s really going to make me say it, isn’t he? “It had to have been a directive from your office.” Even as the words left his mouth he couldn’t believe he’d said them aloud. Accusing a pope of orchestrating such a plan, even if that pope had lived four centuries earlier, was treason. He stared at the rug at his feet, clenching his hands to keep them from trembling. There was no way he’d be allowed to remain a Catholic now.

      The pope leaned back and graced Aldo with a gentle smile. “You look like a man awaiting the guillotine.”

      “Well,” Aldo glanced at Cardinal Bastianelli, “excommunication is death to me.”

      The pope’s eyebrows rose. “I am not known to excommunicate a parishioner for a simple honest answer.” Then his face relaxed. “No, I have called you here for a different purpose entirely. I want to offer you a position.”

      “A job?” Aldo choked in disbelief.

      “You have a bright mind and I need your help.”

      The pope needs my help? Aldo took a deep breath, trying to calm his chaotic thoughts. The day was becoming more and more surreal. He half-expected to wake up at any moment in the hospital from a skiing accident. “What sort of position?”

      “We’ll go over the particulars at a later date. For the time being, we need to get you up to speed with what has been happening.” The pope’s expression grew serious. “Our Church is in peril.”

      Aldo leaned forward. “What sort of peril?”

      Benedict tilted his head. “You have an idea. You’ve been writing essays about it for the past nine months.”

      Aldo scanned his memory. He’d written numerous essays, mostly as a way of cataloging information he had uncovered during his thesis research but couldn’t use in the final paper. But what had he uncovered that could threaten the Church?

      “The Dark Internet?” Aldo asked after a moment. The pope nodded. “So, I was right,” Aldo said, sitting back. His peers at the university had called his theories crazy. While he now knew he would never get the academic accreditation he’d hoped for, he still felt validated knowing he’d been right all along.

      “What is the Dark Internet?” the cardinal asked, stepping away from the door to join them.

      Aldo looked to the pope, who gestured for Aldo to elaborate. Turning to face the cardinal as the older man took the seat beside him, Aldo said, “The Dark Internet is a large underground network, buried on servers unreachable from the internet the rest of the world uses. It’s vast, uncensored, and untraceable unless you know how to access it.”

      Cardinal Bastianelli nodded, yet his brow remained creased with confusion. “How does the Dark Internet relate to the World Wide Web?”

      Didn’t I just explain that? “Uh, well, if you think of the World Wide Web as an iceberg, the part above water would be the known or public internet, while the underwater portion is the Deep Web and Dark Internet. The Deep Web has never been indexed СКАЧАТЬ